


How Far We've Come

by journeycat



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 04:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It means more than Lerant thought it would, and it scares him. But Keladry is a strange addiction, so here they are, at the start of another great adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Far We've Come

He wanted her more than he thought.

It was a passing phase, or at least, that was what Lerant thought in the beginning. He often wanted what he could not have; his adolescence was riddled with rejection. He expected this to be no different. After all, Keladry was surrounded by men every day. One of them was sure to be in her bed already.

Oh, but the dreams he had—they would even shock a sailor with the intensity of their vulgarity. Waking before dawn became a frequent occurrence, and his mind was branded with images of her long, heavy legs willingly parted for him, her back arched against his bed and her breasts bared for his hands. On those mornings, he awoke with a throbbing desire so immense that he _ached_ with it.

This was a thirst that must be quenched.

"I see you more now than I did when I was a squire," Kel said once, flashing white teeth. "I didn't think you were one for keeping about Corus."

He was captivated by her grin. "Milord's not busy," was all he said, and did not expound.

Not long after, Lerant found the opportunity to brush a lock of hair from her face, and her expression was surprised. Her direct gaze, wide-eyed and taken back, was something in which he could drown. He wanted her mouth on his, soft and pliant and wet, but he knew this was not something easily conquered. He left her in that state of confusion and felt her gaze prickling his back.

Another day, he caught her in a dress. His hands itched to slide up and caress her thighs. He wanted to shove her up against a wall and show her just how much he liked her in feminine garb. She caught his eye and smiled, just a little, but it was a smile he had never seen before, shy and pretty. He wanted to see it again, so he asked her for a dance; he whispered jokes in her ear, his lips brushing her flesh, chuckles rumbling deep in her chest. When he pulled away, reluctantly, there was a pink flush on her cheeks, a little on her neck.

Charming was something neither of them were in any sort of traditional sense. And yet, Lerant was inexplicably drawn to her by some sort of charisma. Kel, in turn, laughed at his jokes and listened to him and seemed to enjoy his company.

One kiss, Lerant thought, would be sure to satiate him. He would not seek more. But then Kel tilted her head back and met his mouth and the fire that seared him would not be extinguished by something as simple as that. Her hand, resting against his chest, burned him through his shirt. It was easy to get carried away, breathing heavily and pulling her against him, but she knew better. She drew away, shaking her head, and he went to bed that night alone.

Raoul asked him if he was okay and Dom and the other boys were annoyed at his inattention. Ladies did not hold his regard and he was moody—or more so than usual, anyway—when the King's Own was called away from Corus. _It's just lust_ , he told himself. _It's only a strange addiction_.

Six months passed without her company until the late night the Own returned to Corus. Kel was an owl, he knew, so he stopped by her rooms. The smile that lit up her face when she opened the door was nothing short of beautiful.

"I missed you," she murmured, stepping back to let him in her room.

"Gods, I missed you," he replied.

Lerant finally took what he had wanted for so long. He had anticipated an almost-animal act, something brutal and fierce. He had not counted on her being a virgin.

Time stood still that night. Undressing her was almost too much to bear; her quivering flesh and shallow breathing set him on fire. It was only pure discipline that kept his shaking hands gentle. He knelt before her, pulling her loincloth down, and kissed her inner thigh. Her scent was absolutely _intoxicating_.

They fell on the bed together, their naked bodies pressed against each other. Her fingers entwined in his hair and pulled him down for a rough kiss; her mouth was hot and open, her tongue sweet as it stroked his. The pure sexuality of it made him groan.

Kel ran calloused hands down his muscled back and then raked her nails back up. Lerant trailed kisses down her neck and chest, his lips teasing her breasts until she cried out, " _Please_."

He was already gasping as he raised himself over her, his desire barely contained. Her strong thighs squeezed his hips demandingly, but he was enjoying watching her writhe beneath him. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on both their faces.

It was not long until her soft whimpers got that best of him. Lerant plunged into her, and despite her moan of not-quite-pleasure, Kel wrapped her long legs around him and trapped him there. His thoughts were incoherent as he rested his brow against hers. His dreams, he managed to briefly reflect, were never this good.

Afterwards, his body still limp and shuddering with the force of his climax, Lerant could only summon enough energy to run contented fingers through her hair. He liked the way it felt, soft and damp with sweat, but even more he liked the way Kel curled up against him. He conceded to a little arrogance when her breathing quickly deepened and steadied in a rhythm of sleep. She looked peaceful, untroubled in a way he never saw her, and he thought she looked sweet nestled against his shoulder. _Like she belongs there_ , he thought.

It was a little disconcerting, realizing that lust wasn't quite lust anymore and this meant far more to him than he wanted it to. There were a lot of _maybes_ and _what ifs_ that he would have to address, eventually, like _Maybe this is more than just sex_ and _What if this turns into something deeper?_ After all, a disgraced house's brat and The Girl had never really been friends until complex emotions had changed their minds.

For now, Lerant decided not to worry about it. Instead, he burrowed under the covers with Kel's warm body, and allowed himself to fall asleep with the taste of her still on his lips. Come what may, he would have this night, whatever it meant.


End file.
